


the calling

by ImagineYourself



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty teenage fucks, Canon Era, Dialogue Heavy, Druid Merlin, Druids, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic Reveal, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin went to Camelot as a child to learn magic from Gaius, but he disappeared suddenly at age eleven. For seven long years, Arthur has searched for his missing childhood friend but when they finally meet again under the strangest circumstances, Arthur has no idea how to deal with this new person in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. like crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain was like hey you haven't written in like months why don't you write 11k in two days--fucking do it. Okay, brain, thanks for that. I'm really happy with how this turned out, though. Please enjoy this little plot bunny of mine. Also, this verse has some assumptions that I don't really go into but you'll get it when you read it.

Arthur was running.

Fast.

The low hanging leaves of trees battered his face as he barreled through bushes and leaped over logs. He didn't have to glance over his shoulder to know that the bandits were close behind. It was like he could feel their breath on the back of his neck. Hoots and hollers chased the sound of his pounding heart and footsteps. If he didn't lose them soon, he knew he would be in for trouble.

“Let's go for a ride!” he said in a high falsetto. “Let's race, Arthur! It'll be fun!” He laughed without humor and tried to breathe a little deeper in the hopes that it would soothe his aching chest. His legs were going to give out soon. How were these looters still chasing him?

“Fun my arse,” he cursed and vaulted over two fallen tree trunks. Nearly twisting his ankle on the landing, he mentally cursed his own loud mouth and panted harder. He had gained some ground over the bandits but he was still within reach if he were to slow down too much.

There, a little ways ahead, he spotted a dip in the ground and the telltale signs of a small gulch. If he could get through the mass of brambles to his right, he could get down there and hopefully hide while the bandits ran right past him. Grinning to himself, he forged ahead, slipping through trees and sliding just past the edge of the bramble bushes. Thorns nicked his cheek. He ignored the sting and fell onto his bum, neatly rolling the rest of the way down the little hill.

Arthur cast his gaze around and found a shadowed indent to his left, perfect to hide in. Seconds later he was stowing himself against the dirt when he finally noticed a huddled form, covered in a dark brown cloak. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, suddenly afraid.

“Who are—?” he started to ask, but cut himself off as two amazing things happened at the same time.

First, the bandits started leaping into the gulch and running right past them, still hollering and panting.

Second, the most incredible pair of blue eyes peeked up at him from underneath the hood of the stranger's cloak, surrounded by a boyish face. A finger was held to lips in silence and Arthur started breathing again but only enough to get air for one word into his lungs.

“Merlin?”

Then his brain caught up with his lungs and everything went fuzzy just before it went dark.

 

-

 

“Father? Have you seen Merlin anywhere today?” Arthur was peering up at the king from the ground beside his father's horse.

Uther glanced at him and then moved his gaze to the other men mounting their horses in the courtyard. “No. I haven't. You should ask Gaius.”

Arthur pouted and looked over at the old physician where he stood talking to some maid. Arthur never liked talking to Gaius. The old man made him feel like more of a child than he already was and always talked to him like he was five instead of twelve. “Father—” he pleaded.

“Arthur, please, I have a patrol to get to.” Uther's face was stiff. “Go play with your sister if you can't find the servant boy.” With that, he pulled his horse around and began to trot away, several Camelot guards following him.

Arthur crossed his arms and watched them go, frowning. He didn't want to play with his sister. She was annoying. He huffed a breath and muttered, “Rats.”

“Stomp your foot while you're at it,” a girl's voice said from behind him. Arthur turned around to see Morgana giggling into the sleeve of her tunic. She was wearing pants and boots and had a dagger tucked into the belt around her waist. She and Arthur often trained together with either the king or the head guardsman and they'd had a session planned before Uther was called away for an “urgent patrol”. It was bullocks in Arthur's ears, but he knew his father's duties came before even his children.

“Shove it, Morgana,” he said angrily, walking away.

“That's no way to talk to a lady!” she called after him, but Arthur ignored her in favor of Gaius' side.

The physician was just finishing his discussion with the maid girl and greeted Arthur as he got closer. “Good morning, Prince Arthur,” he said with a flourish of his hand and a short bow.

Arthur didn't have time for such pleasantries and asked loudly, “Where's Merlin?”

“Is he not with you?” Gaius looked a little worried all of a sudden.

“No, he didn't bring me breakfast either. I haven't seen him yet today.” Arthur was growing tired of having no answers for where his servant was. His room needed cleaning and of course he wasn't going to do it. Merlin had to. They were fairly close in age, but Merlin was a poor child and when he'd come to live with Gaius at just nine, Arthur had jumped at the opportunity to have another young boy around the castle. Even if he was a little stupid and clumsy, Arthur liked him. He'd never say it, though, it wouldn't do to be friends with a servant in the eyes of his father.

Gaius stroked his chin and thought for a moment. “I thought he had left early this morning, but I think he didn't come home last night.”

“Where did he go?” Morgana asked, coming up behind Arthur. “I saw him going into the woods yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes, I sent him to gather some herbs for me,” Gaius told them slowly. “I was late in returning to the castle last night, I had been helping a sick child in the lower town.” His face twisted and Arthur frowned in response.

“Well he must be in the woods still. He probably got lost.” Arthur glanced at Morgana. “Come help me look for him.”

“We can't go alone!” Morgana protested, voice shrill.

“Then we'll get a couple of guards! I want to find him!” Arthur turned to her with closed fists. His sister looked about to argue, but gave up with a huff and headed up the steps towards the doors inside.

She turned around at the top and crossed her arms. “Hurry up! It's nearly noon already.”

Arthur grinned and went to run after her, but Gaius touched his shoulder. “Be careful, Arthur. Don't get into any trouble,” the old man said.

“I won't,” Arthur replied cheekily and shook him off to chase after his sister.

 

They returned that day empty handed. And the next day, too. When Uther finally rode out after three days to find the boy, he came back with tattered orange cloth in his hand and a shake of his head.

After a week, they found the sad remains of a druid camp and Uther told his children Merlin must have been taken by them. Gaius wouldn't speak of the druids when Arthur asked. A year later Morgana forgot all about the boy when she found a new handmaiden named Gwen.

When Arthur became old enough to ride on patrols, he always looked for signs of druids, but never found any signs of Merlin.

 

-

 

It had been seven long years since Arthur had last seen those fathomless eyes, but he would recognize them anywhere from his memories and his dreams. They hovered above him as he blinked into consciousness and slowly Arthur became aware of the face surrounding them. Merlin looked older, but there was a roundness to his face that was only offset by his ever sharp cheekbones. His pink lips were pursed in concentration, head tilted.

Arthur glanced around, noted that he was on the ground, and further realized he had not been moved from their hiding spot against the hill. Merlin sat beside him, one foot tucked underneath his bottom and his chin resting on his other knee as he observed Arthur. It was strangely familiar yet unnerving.

Sitting up, Arthur felt his head with one dirty hand but realized he was not injured after a quick body check. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

Merlin smiled mockingly. “You knocked yourself out. I think you were shocked.”

“I'm still a bit shocked. How the hell are you here? I thought you were dead,” Arthur suddenly spewed, eyes narrowing. The smile turned sad and the boy looked down. He toyed with some leaves and didn't answer. “You...” Arthur took a deep breath. “You remember me, right?”

“How could I forget a nose as crooked as yours?” Merlin laughed and Arthur tossed a handful of leaves at him. He just brushed the leaves from his hair, short and black as always now that he had removed his hood and Arthur could see it. “It has been... a long time, Arthur,” he said more soberly, looking at the prince with unexpressed emotion in his eyes.

Arthur was a little speechless, his lips hanging open. He wanted to say something, but before he could, Merlin got to his feet and held out a hand. Beneath his cloak Arthur could see he was wearing a simple white shirt and brown pants, worn boots on his feet and a water pouch hung from a belt along with several other small pouches that Arthur had no idea what they contained. Merlin carried no weapon. Arthur was more than a little miffed that he'd lost his sword before he'd started running when the bandits ambushed him and Morgana.

He took the offered hand and brushed the dirt from his pants, picking a few leaves from his chain mail. A glance up told him the sun was just starting to set and he cursed under his breath. “You wouldn't happen to have a horse around here?” he asked.

Merlin shook his head. “No. But I can...” he trailed off and looked away. Taking a step back from Arthur, he glanced in the direction Arthur had come running from.

“You can what?”

“Uh,” Merlin started, looking uncomfortable. “I can't help you.”

“What?” Arthur was incredulous. He'd just found his childhood friend again, had been chased from his horse and his supplies by bandits, hell he didn't even know where he was. “Why not?” he demanded.

“You... would not like my home,” the boy said shiftily, looking anywhere but Arthur.

“What do you mean?”

Merlin sighed. “You would not be welcome there.”

Arthur was taken aback. “I don't understand.” He had disappeared into these very woods as a child, if he was not dead he must have found somewhere to hide, to live, while out here. Furthermore, this close to Camelot, he must have had a good reason not to return. He was about to open his mouth and ask about that when Merlin spoke.

“We can make camp here for tonight, and tomorrow I'll show you the way back to Camelot.” Merlin had a determined set to his mouth so after deliberating for just a second, Arthur nodded.

“I'll gather some firewood. Have you got any food?” he asked, moving out to search for dry wood.

“I have,” Merlin told him, walking in the opposite direction with his eyes on the ground.

Arthur didn't want him to get too far, still a little out of his mind in amazement, so he made sure to stay within sight of Merlin at all times. He would glance up every few seconds to make sure the boy was still there as they managed to get enough wood to last the night. Merlin made a fire quickly while Arthur plucked more debris from his clothing. He didn't know how Merlin made a flame so fast with only rocks and not flint, but he did not question it, chalking it up to time spent alone in the forest. He had to have picked up a few skills here and there.

Arthur watched him from the corners of his eyes. There was much more grace in this Merlin's movements than he'd ever seen in the young servant he'd known. He supposed it was to be expected, after all this Merlin was nearly a man. He was quiet and exuded a calm that Arthur was unfamiliar with and comforted by at the same time. Night was truly starting to fall and the fire reflected in Merlin's eyes.

“How'd you end up here anyway?” Arthur asked before he could stop himself. He waved a hand. “Here as in... well everything. What happened to you?”

Merlin pulled some bread from a pouch on his belt and split the loaf in half, reaching around the fire to hand one side to Arthur. He took a long time before saying, “I hadn't meant to leave without saying goodbye, but I didn't have a lot of choice.”

“My father said you were likely killed by druids.” Arthur didn't miss the way Merlin smiled into his lap at that. “I suppose that isn't true considering you're very much alive.”

“They did not kill me, no.”

“But they took you?”

Merlin shook his head. “I decided to leave with them. The day I was gathering herbs for Gaius, I found them. Or rather, they found me. I chose to leave.”

“Why?” Arthur asked, the question loaded with some bitterness.

The smile he got was the saddest he'd ever seen. “I can't tell you,” Merlin said.

“Why not?” Sitting up straighter, legs crossed, Arthur pinned him with a serious gaze.

“Uther is still king, yes? And he still hates the druids. And magic.” Merlin took a bite of bread and chewed thoughtfully.

“Is that your reason?”

“Do you hate the druids, too?” the boy finally asked.

The prince opened his mouth but closed it again. “I—I'm not sure.” Merlin cocked his head and Arthur sighed, relaxing his posture. “I did for a long time, I thought they had killed you. I've looked for them for years, but I never found them, and I never found you.”

“You looked for me?” Merlin's face was surprised when Arthur looked at him.

“Of course,” he replied, like it was to be expected. What kind of friend would he be to have just given up?

“You—” Merlin was apparently speechless. “You _cared_?” he asked finally.

Arthur frowned. “We were friends, of course I cared. I made my father search the bloody woods for you until he found evidence that the druids had been there. I still didn't give up... not ever.”

The expression with which Merlin was looking at him was completely unreadable. They were both silent for a long while as Arthur waited. Finally, Merlin said carefully, “We weren't friends.”

Arthur laughed and made a funny face at him. “Yes we were.”

“No, we weren't,” Merlin argued. “I was your servant. You treated me like dirt. Morgana treated me at least a hundred times better than you and she barely even knew I existed.”

With his face twisted in a frown, Arthur shook his head slowly. “I know I wasn't very nice to you, but I still _liked_ you.”

A bitter laugh answered him. “You weren't very nice,” Merlin muttered in a mocking tone. “You were bloody awful to me! I was convinced you hated me. That's part of the reason I left in the first place!” He took a deep breath and Arthur watched his thin chest expand.

“Why _did_ you leave? You haven't explained that yet.” Merlin looked away from him abruptly, so Arthur continued, “There's something you aren't telling me. Well, there's a lot you aren't. Why?”

“You didn't answer my question. Do you hate druids?” Merlin retorted.

“No.” Arthur was a little proud of the surprise that answer warranted in Merlin's face. It wasn't untrue. He no longer hated the druids, after hearing Gaius speak so highly of them whenever they were discussed with Uther. He had still resented the fact they had taken Merlin from him, but now, whatever the reality, this was better than death for his friend. “They're people, too.”

“Even though they have magic?” Merlin asked, looking suddenly hopeful.

“I'm not my father. I don't inherently hate everything magic. I don't like it, but I don't hate it. I've heard Gaius speak of sorcerers he once knew who used their magic to heal and help others. It's not all as corrupt as my father would have me believe.” Arthur watched as Merlin's face went from hopeful to excited to suddenly closed off again. “Why are you asking me this? What's magic got to do with anything?”

Merlin thought for a long time, staring into the fire then meeting Arthur's eyes for brief moments before training his gaze on the flames again. “I've been living with the druids. This whole time.”

Arthur did not speak for a while. After many minutes he asked a soft, “Why?”

“What are you doing out here?” Merlin asked instead of answering.

“I was out for a ride with Morgana, just the two of us. Those bandits attacked us and I was knocked off my horse. I told Morgana to run because there were too many, and she got away while I drew them off. She'll probably be back in Camelot by now but they won't be back to look for me til morning.” Arthur glanced into the fire with a frown. The more he thought about it the more he was realizing he only had this one night with Merlin back in his life.

“Would you come with me to Camelot?” Arthur asked abruptly, meeting Merlin's wide, responsive eyes.

The other boy stared at him. “I can't.”

“What do you mean you can't?” Arthur pursed his lips.

“I can't.” Merlin shrugged. “I don't belong there.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Merlin rolled his eyes in exasperation and Arthur resisted the urge to reach across the fire and flick him. “I left because I didn't belong seven years ago. I still don't belong there and I never will.”

“Why not? What's so special about you?”

“Nothing,” Merlin replied too quickly.

“Then why?” Arthur insisted.

“Why can't you let this go?” Merlin asked hotly.

Arthur had clenched his fists. “I've spent the last seven years of my life watching for you in the streets or trying to catch up to you in the forests. I've chased your ghost around the castle and now you're here and I can hardly believe it and I'm wondering when I'm going to wake up from this dream because it's starting to feel like a nightmare. I lost you once, Merlin, and I don't want to do it again!”

He stopped when he was standing, Merlin's big doe eyes reflecting the orange light of the fire as he stared with parted lips. Arthur took a deep breath and sat down again, a little embarrassed at his outburst. Picking up a thin branch from the forest floor, he distracted himself by pulling the last remnants of leaves off of it as he waited for Merlin to say something. Anything.

After an hour or a few minutes, Merlin said quietly, “You sound like you're speaking of someone else.”

“What?” Arthur asked stupidly, looking up.

“The way you talk about me, when we were young—” he waved a hand through the air dramatically “—it's like you were in love. I'm not—I'm not someone you loved. I was your servant.” Merlin was frowning contemplatively. He sat back with his knees up, then, as if curling in on himself, he wrapped his arms around his legs and looked off to the side with his chin on his knees. He looked small. Arthur didn't feel very big in comparison.

“You were my servant,” Arthur conceded, “but I didn't hate you.” Crossing his arms he rested his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward. “We were children.”

Merlin didn't answer for so long that Arthur laid on his side, arms pillowing his head on the ground. He watched as the fire burnt low when Merlin didn't add any wood to it, but Arthur's eyelids were too heavy to keep open so he didn't add any either. The other boy didn't lay down, but Arthur thought he might have been asleep. Arthur closed his eyes for a few moments and when he opened them again, a grey dawn was breaking through the trees.

He was on his back and there was a voice on his left but when he turned his head he could see no one. Merlin wasn't beside the last dredges of the fire when Arthur glanced the other way. He sat up slowly, looking around. The voice was faint, whispering or far away, and Arthur got into a crouch, cursing once again that he didn't have a sword with him. At least he was a pretty good fist-fighter. Footsteps coming towards him made him turn in anticipation, but he relaxed a bit when he recognized Merlin through the hanging branches.

“Good morning,” Merlin greeted as he got nearer.

Arthur looked behind him but didn't see anyone still. “Who were you talking to?”

Merlin had a surprised face for just a second before he smiled and said, “The trees.”

“And what do the trees say?” Arthur asked with raised brows.

“That you've grown moss you were sleeping so long.”

“It's barely dawn!” Arthur protested, but Merlin was laughing and ducked under the playful slap Arthur had tried to knock his arm with.

“I brought breakfast.” Merlin tossed an apple that Arthur just barely caught and rolled in his palm before taking a bite.

“Thanks.”

“We should get moving. Best to get you back to Camelot before the king starts wrecking the forest looking for you,” Merlin told him as he brushed some dirt over the embers of their fire.

“Are you escorting me?” Arthur asked, a mocking lilt to his voice.

“Someone ought to, you haven't got a sword.” Merlin smiled and brushed his hands on his trousers.

The prince looked at him like he was an idiot. “And you're going to protect me? You haven't a sword either.”

Shrugging like there was some joke Arthur wouldn't get, Merlin said, “I don't need one.”

Arthur was skeptical, but followed after when the boy started walking through the underbrush, taking them out of the little gulch and back to flatter land. Merlin walked like he was on a path but Arthur had trouble keeping up with him, dodging trees and ducking under branches as the sun slowly rose. It wasn't even noon before Merlin stopped and threw a hand in front of them.

“Camelot is that way, this is as far as I'll go. I'm sure you can manage the rest on your own.” Merlin stepped back when Arthur caught up, eyes following the way he was pointing.

“Merlin, are you sure you won't come with me? Even for a night or two, just to see the place again?” Arthur asked, turning to look at him.

Merlin was stepping backwards, already walking away. “No, I can't.” His smile was sad.

Arthur watched him take a few steps. “Thank you, Merlin. I'm glad I got to see you at least once more.”

“Til next time,” Merlin told him, no longer smiling at all. He twisted around and kept walking and Arthur watched him go.

The prince looked over his shoulder where he was sure Camelot lie in the distance. He glanced back at Merlin's cloak as he started to disappear through the trees. Without thinking about it, Arthur jogged towards Merlin until he was in sight. He followed the boy through the trees, staying far enough back that Merlin shouldn't hear him.

He didn't know why he was doing this. That was a lie. He knew exactly why he was following Merlin. He wanted to know where he was going, wanted to know why he was here, who he had become. The things Merlin had told him—the very few things, mind you—were rolling around Arthur's head and he tried to make sense of them. Merlin had chosen to go with the druids, but Arthur still had no idea why. Why would he leave Camelot, his job, Gaius, _everything_ behind? He was just eleven when he'd gone away, maybe he really had been taken, but he'd forgotten all the good things he'd left behind.

Arthur was so confused, he wanted to understand. Why did Merlin not think of him as his friend? They'd played together as children, spent almost all of their time together. Merlin was almost like part of the family even though he was a servant. Had the druids twisted his memories and turned him against the king and Arthur himself? They had magic, didn't they? Could they have done something to him with magic? But, then, what would they want with a servant boy in the first place?

Shaking his head, Arthur caught sight of Merlin again, closer than he'd expected. The boy had stopped, so Arthur quickly hid behind a tree, peeking out from the edge to watch what he was doing. With cupped hands, Merlin took water from a bubbling stream and brought it to his lips. The water was running towards Arthur and he watched it pass over nearby rocks for a moment until Merlin straightened, glanced around, and continued walking.

They traveled for hours. The sun was getting close to setting when Arthur saw brightly colored fabric hanging through the trees. A druid camp? No, the fabric was hanging in strips, strung between trees like little flags. They rustled in the wind and Arthur found a thick tree to lean against, hidden from view. Merlin stopped when he was in the middle of all the ribbons and sat on the ground with his legs crossed.

Though he faced away from Arthur, the prince could clearly hear his voice as he called out, “I know you're there, Arthur. Come sit with me.”

Arthur shifted a bit in place, uncomfortable. After a long pause, he stepped out from the trees and slowly, carefully, made his way past a line of hangings and kneeled beside Merlin. “If you knew I was following you, why didn't you stop me earlier?” he asked quietly. He didn't know what this place was, but it was silent, and he felt he needed to be gentle with the very earth of this ominous ground.

Merlin was looking at a stone that he held between his hands. “I wondered how far you would follow me. Why not return to Camelot?”

“I... You're different.” Arthur watched Merlin's hands, too, his long fingers curling around the small stone as he passed it from palm to palm.

With a soft laugh, Merlin held the stone out to him. Arthur let him place it in his open palm. “You're not wrong.”

“I just, I want to know who you are, now.” Arthur brought the stone to eye level to examine it before handing it back. It was just a regular stone. “What is this place?” he asked, looking around at the colors which surrounded them.

“A druid shrine. We make these to warn people of disturbed land.”

“Disturbed? By what?” He didn't miss the way Merlin said “we”.

“Spirits that are trapped here. People who died that can't move on.” Merlin's face was sad when Arthur looked at it. “A young girl died here many years ago, but she's gone now. Moved on, finally.”

Arthur gazed around again, feeling like someone was watching him. The place certainly didn't feel like whoever was here had moved on. “Oh.”

"Who I am now,” Merlin said suddenly, “is not someone you would like.”

Their eyes met and Merlin's looked shadowed. “How do you know? I'm not the same person you used to know either,” Arthur told him, defensive.

“If I told you a secret, would you judge me?”

The prince was perplexed. This was not something he thought Merlin would ask. The feeling that he was being watched only grew stronger and he looked over his shoulder, almost expecting someone to be there, but no one was. When he turned his head back around, Merlin was looking at him with and expectant expression.

“I would not judge you,” Arthur said decisively. “I'm not a man of judgment, I leave that to my father.”

Merlin spared him a small smile before looking down at his hands again. He cupped the stone within them, raised his fingers to his lips, and whispered something that Arthur could not hear. When he spread his hands again, the stone was gone. In it's place was a stone grey butterfly which took flight from his fingertips. They watched it flap against the breeze and disappear into the trees.

With some amazement, Arthur looked to Merlin to see him smiling that profoundly sad smile again. He had a fleeting thought that he'd give anything to see the boy never be sad again. “Was that...?” he asked in a whisper, almost afraid to say the words aloud.

“Magic? Yes.”

“You have magic.”

Merlin was expressionless once more. “Yes. Since birth.”

Like the proper key unlocking a hatch, everything made sense. “That's why you went with the druids,” Arthur said. He cradled his head between his hands and looked with wide eyes at the leaf littered ground. “You have magic. But magic is illegal. Did Gaius know? Did he know you went to the druids?” he asked, looking sharply at him again, his mind making connections before he could even begin to understand them.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded. “My mother wanted me to go to Gaius because he used to practice magic a long time ago, but the druids said they could help me, and I would be free to practice without being so close to the king. How could I say no? My whole life I had to keep it a secret, but with them I am... free.”

“Gaius always told me that if you were meant to show up again, you would. He knew you were alive, but he never told me for certain. I didn't know...” Arthur trailed off. He was surprised, but unafraid. He paused, his racing mind screeching to a halt as one thought came to mind. “You could kill me with barely a word. You could've killed the king, even as a child.”

Arthur stood up and paced away, moving back and forth before a line of hanging cloth. “This is ridiculous. You—” he pointed at Merlin then continued to pace “—have magic! Why! And you—you worked for me? In Camelot. A sorcerer in Camelot. Right under my damn nose.”

Merlin was just watching him pace and mutter out his thoughts. “Yep,” he said, turning to sit with one knee up for his chin to rest on, eyes following Arthur.

“But you were just a child. Did you even have any control? Did you ever use it? On me?” Arthur stopped to look at him, waiting for a response before he could continue.

“I didn't know much of anything back then. It was never dangerous, though, you have to believe me. I'm not a bad person.” The eyes that met Arthur's were so serious that he felt he had to believe his words even though they were those of a sorcerer.

A sorcerer! His former servant! His friend...? “No,” he said slowly, sitting down again though he was farther away this time. “I don't think you're a bad person.”

“Are you scared of me now?” Merlin asked softly.

Arthur thought about it, looked away. He glanced at Merlin again and thought about it some more. “You're not very intimidating to begin with.”

Merlin smiled suddenly and the tension between them lessened considerably as Arthur returned the gesture. “It's a good thing I've got it then. Survived my fair share of bandits for it.”

“Could've helped out yesterday with that,” Arthur muttered. That brought an actual laugh out of the other boy and Arthur relaxed his shoulders a little bit. He looked around suddenly, noticing that the sun was beginning to set. It would be dark soon.

As if he'd guessed was Arthur was thinking, Merlin said, “Night will be here soon.”

“Shall we stay here, then?” Arthur asked, looking around now for a good place to take some semblance of shelter.

Merlin stood and stepped over to him, holding out a hand. “I've got a better idea.” Arthur frowned but grasped his forearm and got to his feet.

“What's that?” he asked, following after as Merlin left the shrine and started heading in a purposeful direction.

Glancing over his shoulder, Merlin said, “Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the first Merlin fic I've written but it's the first I'm posting. Hopefully in the future I'll finish some of my others and post them too. I'm late into the fandom but my heart doesn't give a fuck.


	2. like wolves

“Home” apparently meant a druid camp not far from the shrine. The very edge of the sun had yet to disappear when they came upon the settlement. There were tents made of colorful fabric that were similar to the pieces he'd seen in the shrine. Two young children, clad in orange and dark green robes, ran past them from one tent to another, one of them laughing so loud the sound rang in Arthur's ears.

Merlin led him deeper into the camp and Arthur noticed that everyone was nodding at Merlin with soft smiles on their lips before they would look at him and frown. He began to feel very uncomfortable and walked a little closer to his guide. A woman with long curls of hair, braided with flowers, stood from her seat between two tents and bowed her head as they walked past, but when Arthur looked back at her, she was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“What are you to these people?” he asked in a whisper at Merlin's shoulder.

Before Merlin could answer, an older man with silver hair met them at the mouth of a deep red colored tent and clasped Merlin's shoulders, greeting him by saying, “Emrys! You have returned! Was your journey successful?”

Merlin smiled at him and touched his arms before they dropped. “Yes, it was.”

The man looked past him and locked eyes with Arthur, who shrank back a little at the oddly warm eyes he was met with. “You must be Prince Arthur.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, then back to the man. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Kassair, I am the elder of my clan. I see you've come with Emrys, so I assume you are of no danger to us though you are a Pendragon child.” The old man—Kassair—said the king's name like it was something distasteful though his eyes were not malicious.

“Emrys? You mean Merlin?” Arthur asked, looking again at the boy in question.

“That is my name here, to the druids. I'll explain more later. Right now, Kassair, I'd like to show Arthur around if that is alright.” Merlin spoke to him with such respect that Arthur felt a little strangely out of place.

Why had he even come here? He didn't know anybody, he barely even knew Merlin. Hell, the boy was barely like he remembered _and_ he had magic! Arthur was so caught up in his worry that he didn't register the last words that Merlin spoke to Kassair and only came back to himself when his arm was grasped and he was dragged away.

“Thinking so hard isn't good for you,” Merlin was saying as he led Arthur to another tent, this one colored dark blue. They ducked inside and Merlin took off his cloak, rolling it up and setting it atop a bedroll on the ground.

“Is this where you live?” Arthur asked, crouching under the low hanging fabric.

“Well, it's where I sleep anyway. The whole camp is my home.” Merlin left the tent again and Arthur followed, looking around and taking in more of the area. There were fewer tents than he would have expected when he actually counted them, and what felt like many eyes were only a couple of dozen people milling about.

Several children, age ten or so he thought, were dancing around in circles around a small fire while a few women looked on, their hands busy with thread on their laps. They talked quietly and laughed. A man in a yellow cloak touched each of their shoulders as he walked by and two of the children ran to tug at his sleeves. Arthur could not hear what they were saying, but his attention was drawn to a small boy who was looking at him with bright blue eyes.

Merlin was silent, watching the boy with a perplexed expression when Arthur turned to ask him about the child. He had a feeling the two were talking, but neither of them made a sound. After an uncomfortable moment, Merlin turned away and began walking towards the other side of camp, Arthur at his heels. When he glanced back, the boy was still staring, expressionless.

“Who was that boy?” Arthur asked quietly though they were out of earshot.

“Don't worry about him. Mordred just doesn't like strangers. Always worries about me,” Merlin told him offhandedly. “This is where I've spent nearly half of my life now,” he continued, gesturing at the people and nodding when they passed, showing Arthur the various tents and little almost temple-like areas with tiny shrines that hung among the trees.

“Why do they call you Emrys? What are you to them?” Arthur asked, turning in circles just to take it all in.

Merlin sat beneath a tree, nestling himself between the thick roots and Arthur sat beside him after a moment. “It means 'immortal'. I have a destiny that has been spoken of by the druids for a long time. They called me that when I first met them. They all knew me already.”

“What destiny is that?”

Shaking his head, Merlin toyed with the strings on his water pouch, still hooked on his belt. “I don't know. They've never really told me. They've said I'm not ready to know yet. All I know is it has something to do with Camelot.” Arthur must have made a face without realizing it because a second later Merlin quickly added, “I'm not to destroy it or anything. I won't cause harm.” He paused and took a breath. “I think I'm meant to bring it together somehow. Or help at the least.”

“If that's true, then why won't you come there with me?” Arthur asked, the words just falling from his mouth. He wished he could swallow them back up as Merlin gave him that sad smile again. Arthur was really starting to hate that.

“I live here,” was all he replied.

Arthur twisted to face him. “But you could live in Camelot. I'm offering you a place there.”

“As your servant again?” Merlin asked scathingly.

“No!” Arthur heaved a sigh. “As... as my friend. You'd be welcome to stay in the castle.”

“Why? Why would you do that for me?”

Looking away from Merlin's accusing eyes, unable to stand the intensely blue gaze, Arthur didn't answer.

“You don't even have a proper reason do you?” Merlin asked, voice softer. They sat in silence until Merlin looked up sharply towards the camp and got to his feet. “Come on, supper is ready.”

“How do you know?” Arthur asked, standing and stretching his knees out. As a reply, Merlin tapped his own forehead with a finger and led the way back into the heart of the camp. Arthur shook his head fondly and gathered his wits about him to eye the crowd that was sitting around a large fire and talking amongst themselves.

Many of them looked to Merlin as the two sat on the ground. Bowls of what Arthur assumed to be stew were being passed around the circle and Arthur gratefully accepted his with a nod to the young woman that gave it to him. She had messy blonde hair and blushed as she turned away. Merlin nudged his shoulder, but Arthur paid her no mind, his attention caught as Kassair joined the group and they all fell to silence.

“Tonight we welcome Arthur Pendragon into our midst. Have no fear of him, for he comes with Emrys as his guide.” Nearly all the eyes in the group moved to him and Merlin, making Arthur feel more than a little uncomfortable. “Please, take each bite as a gift and as a reminder of our humanity. Perhaps in the future, this gift will be returned to us.” Kassair spoke to the group, but he was looking at Arthur in such a way that the prince felt every word was meant for him.

Strangely flattered in a way, he followed Merlin's lead and brought his bowl to his lips, sipping the rich stew it contained with a heavy tongue and tight throat. Conversation sprung up again around him, and though Arthur was quiet, he watched as people spoke and interacted with Merlin like he was no different than the rest of them. They all talked and laughed together. Merlin had a smile on his face that was unlike Arthur had ever seen before on those pink lips.

It was strange, seeing Merlin in a different light than before. The outline of his face was alive with the flicker of the fire and the banter of the group. Arthur had a warm belly full of food and sometimes he, too, would smile when an amusing story was mentioned or a joke told. Mostly, he just watched Merlin, who despite looking like just another druid, had an air about him that put him at odds with the others. Like they were all grey wolves and he was speckled. He was part of the pack but different than the rest. Arthur wondered if it was just his perception, or if what he was seeing was true.

The moon was high overhead and the children had already been laid down in tents when Merlin and Arthur parted from the group, only a few of the adults left chatting around the dying fire. They went to Merlin's tent, and Arthur removed his chain mail as he watched Merlin unhook his belt. They were quiet, pleasantly sleepy in the dimness, light from the moon coming in slivers from above.

“I'm sorry I haven't got an extra bedroll,” Merlin said as he lay on his side, head pillowed in the cloak he'd wrapped up earlier.

“I'm used to sleeping on the ground.” Arthur faced him, their bodies with little space between them as the tent was narrow and meant for just one. He didn't mind. Merlin's face was nice to look at and the blue in his eyes was black in the darkness.

“I know,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur didn't dare close his eyes just yet. His tired mind wanted to memorize what he was looking at. He didn't bother to think why. “Merlin?” he started after a long time.

“Yes?”

It was a few moments before Arthur gathered the courage to whisper, “Thank you.”

Merlin smiled at him and it wasn't sad at all. “You're welcome.”

Arthur didn't close his eyes until Merlin was already asleep.

 

-

 

This time when Arthur woke, he was on his stomach, face buried in his arms. He opened his eyes to see Merlin sitting cross-legged beside him, a old looking leather-bound tome in his hands. Merlin looked at him as Arthur shifted and smiled in greeting.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully.

Arthur sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning. “Yes, it is,” he mumbled. With bleary vision, he looked through the opening to the tent and watched a pair of feet walk by in the bright sunlight. “Do you always wake at dawn?”

“Not always,” Merlin replied absently, tying a leather strap around the book he'd been reading before setting it atop his cloak. “Come, we should get breakfast.”

Breakfast meant an apple and a tiny loaf of the tastiest bread Arthur had ever put in his mouth and he asked after who made it, thanking the woman—Elena—and receiving a kiss on the cheek for his compliment. Merlin laughed at him and she kissed his cheek too, painting his cheekbones with a dusty pink flush. Arthur wanted to thank her again just for that.

After breakfast, Merlin left Arthur to wander the village, saying he needed to talk to Kassair about something important. Arthur meandered around the village a bit, glad when the people there either ignored him or smiled in greeting. Even being ignored was better than the harsh stares he'd received the previous day. He was trying to find a good tree to sit and rest under when he turned around and found the same boy from the day before staring at him blankly from a few meters away.

Arthur took a breath and let it out slowly. “Mordred, that's your name right?” The boy didn't answer. “Is there... something you want to say?” It was unnerving, being pinned under that stare for a long time. Arthur was unsure if the child would ever say a single word when suddenly he spoke.

“Do not take Emrys with you. He belongs here, with us.” Mordred's voice was clear as was his intent.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I will let Merlin do what he chooses, but I won't tell him to stay here if he decides to come back to Camelot.”

Mordred took a step closer. “He is a druid now,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“That doesn't mean he's not welcome in Camelot,” Arthur argued.

“Not while your father is king.”

“I won't let him be killed, not by my father or anyone.” Arthur's words came out harsher than he'd meant them to be, but he spoke only the absolute truth.

Mordred did not say another word, but left Arthur with a feeling of unease as he turned away and disappeared into the village. The feeling was still with him when Merlin found him under a tall tree, all smiles like nothing was wrong. Arthur supposed, for him, nothing was. There was only the turmoil in his own mind, and he had no idea what any of it meant.

Merlin sat beside him, their shoulders barely touching, until Arthur said, “I should return to Camelot. If I am gone too long... my father will be searching.”

The young warlock turned towards him, hands out like he was going to touch Arthur but thought better of it and now hung in the middle. “Will you stay another night? I'll take you back through the forest in the morning. It would be better to have an earlier start.”

It sounded like an excuse but the soft eyes with which Merlin was looking at him made Arthur nod. “Alright, we leave in the morning.” He was rewarded with a smile and Merlin relaxing at his side again. “Is there anything else you want to show me in the meantime?”

“I can think of a few things.”

 

-

 

Arthur spluttered when Merlin splashed him with the cold water. He had already started to feel the chill seep into his bones from the moment they dived into the deep pool of water, but as they moved around one another, Arthur was beginning to get accustomed to the temperature. Behind him was a small waterfall and the mist that came off of the fall reflected the sunlight in rainbows that Arthur could not count they were so numerous.

Their clothes lay in piles on nearby rocks and the water was clear and blue, matching Merlin's lively eyes. He ducked under the water when Merlin splashed him again and wiped the water from his eyes when he surfaced again. Merlin was laughing even as Arthur splashed him back.

“Oh, I'm wounded! How could you treat me like this, Arthur?” Merlin was gasping, his grin betraying the words with humor.

“You started it!” Arthur told him with some petulance, though he too was grinning like a child. He hadn't felt like this for many years, so free. No responsibility for the day, nowhere important to be or people to impress. He had only Merlin and the boy's laugh was like a drug to his ears.

“Did not!” Merlin retorted, sending a wave of water crashing down onto him.

They traded splashes until Merlin's teeth began to chatter and Arthur dutifully pushed him out of the water and onto dry land where they sat in the sun a few minutes before dressing again. With the sun warm on their backs, the two sat side by side near the waterfall, just far enough to not get wet again.

“It's beautiful out here,” Merlin said, a dreamy tone to his voice. His eyes were closed, head tilted back as he rested on his elbows.

“That it is,” Arthur replied absently. He looked to the trees, to the sparkles on the ripples of the water, and to the boy beside him and thought that Merlin was absolutely right. It was long past noon by the time they started heading back to the camp, walking close enough that their arms brushed every other step. Arthur was suddenly hit with a wave of sadness that he would lose this feeling come morning.

He pushed the feeling aside and nudged Merlin lightly. “Race?”

Merlin laughed, the sound bright in the forest like the sun was. “You're on.” He took off before Arthur could catch his breath from the way his heart stopped at the look on Merlin's face.

“Hey! No fair!” he called, breaking into a run.

Jogging a few steps backwards, Merlin replied, “Life isn't!” He grinned and turned forward, dodging trees and jumping over logs.

Arthur fought to keep up with him, nearly getting close enough to reach out and grab the boy. When he started to slow down, Merlin did too, and it became less of a race and more of a game to see if Arthur could catch Merlin as he jumped from tree to tree and taunted Arthur with laughter.

“Come back here!” Arthur called though he was huffing with equal amounts joy and exertion.

“Can you catch me?” Merlin teased, dancing just out of reach each time Arthur circled a tree to get him. It was hide and go seek, Arthur fighting now to catch glimpses of the boy and which thick trunk he was hiding behind. A glimpse of a white shirt here and black hair there.

Finally, the prince got close enough to catch Merlin's arm and pin him to a tree. They were both grinning and panting and Arthur cried triumphantly, “Gotcha!”

“I let you catch me!” Merlin argued, hands coming up to grasp Arthur's arms, but not pushing him away.

“Oh sure,” Arthur laughed, “of course you did.”

“It's true! You'd never have caught me otherwise.”

Arthur didn't believe it for a second, but he was too caught up in the wild smile that Merlin had and the glow in his eye to come up with something funny to argue. They were standing quite close and as Arthur realized it, his grin started fading. Merlin's eyes were still bright but his mouth had a more serious set to it and Arthur was unsure if he wanted to get closer or step away.

One of Merlin's hands slid to his shoulder and his neck and made the choice for him, guiding Arthur closer until their lips were nearly touching. “Arthur, I...” Merlin whispered and Arthur could feel the words against his mouth.

“Shut up,” he whispered back and shortened that last distance between them, tilting his head into a kiss that stole the breath right out of his lungs. He didn't want to breathe it back in, too afraid of breaking this precious moment like he'd broken so many things in his life. He'd lost Merlin once, he would not do it again.

Merlin kissed like a starved man and wrapped both arms around Arthur to hold him close. When they fell apart finally, gasping, Merlin let their foreheads rest together and didn't meet Arthur's eyes. Arthur pressed their lips together again, desperate for something that he couldn't name. He wanted so badly to say something, but could only speak in the pressure of his mouth and the brush of his tongue against Merlin's teeth. His own teeth caught the boy's bottom lip as he pulled away again, arms cradling Merlin's body against the tree even as Merlin's hands were dropping from his back.

“I can't,” Merlin whispered to him, head down.

Arthur kissed his cheek gently, lips brushing against his skin until he buried his face in Merlin's neck, holding him tightly in an embrace. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see that sad smile that he knew Merlin would turn on him. “Why not?” he asked instead, hands clenching the fabric of Merlin's shirt.

“I have to stay with the druids. I still have much to learn from them.” Merlin's voice was so low and disheartened that Arthur wanted to cry.

“Come visit me at least. Please.” Arthur was unashamed of the blatant need in his voice. He did not want to lose this wonderful magical boy when he'd just found him again. He couldn't bear it. But they both had their duties, and he knew that.

“I can't just leave,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur pushed himself away, holding the boy at arms length. “I'm not asking you to leave, I'm asking you to just give me a chance.”

Merlin sighed and didn't meet his eyes. “Arthur, I'm sorry.”

“You said your destiny is in Camelot, so why are you so afraid to go back?” Arthur asked hotly.

Looking up finally, the sorcerer frowned at him. “I'm not afraid, I—”

“Do you care nothing for me?” The words flew from Arthur's lips and, vindictively, he was a little appeased by the horrified look Merlin returned.

“I didn't say that!”

“Then come with me.”

“No.”

Arthur let go of him and took a step back, frustration boiling in his veins. “Then I'm leaving.”

“What? Now?”

Spinning around, Arthur began to walk briskly back to the camp. “Yes, now. I'm going to get my things and leave.”

Merlin took a few seconds to catch up to him and when he did he argued, “Don't be a prat. It'll be nightfall before you get halfway there. We'll go in the morning.”

“I'm going now.” Arthur's tone was final.

They swept into camp without another word and Arthur gathered his chain mail and belt from Merlin's tent, putting them on with shaking fingers. The sun was already starting to set and Arthur couldn't get his belt to hook properly around his waist. Merlin took pity on him after a moment and Arthur watched his hands easily slip the buckle into place.

When he had finished, Merlin took his hands back but didn't move away. “Stay.”

Arthur shook his head and said, “I'm going now. You can follow me if you wish but nothing you say will change my mind.” He was being stubborn, childish, and he knew it, but if Merlin was so hellbent on staying away, he'd make it easier.

He'd barely taken two steps away when Merlin said softly, “Please. Just for tonight.”

Arthur stopped, but did not turn back. “I hope I'll see you again one day,” he muttered and kept walking. A couple of people watched him go, but he didn't meet their eyes. Their silence spoke many things that Arthur did not want to hear.

The light was fading fast as he got back into the thick of the woods. He thought for a moment if he should just stop and make a little camp for the night. He thought about going back. What kind of man would he be to return with his tail between his legs? Arthur shook the notions from his mind and kept walking, he'd be useless at trying to start a fire without flint anyway.

The sun was long gone by the time the half moon was visible through the treetops and Arthur counted himself lucky for the light it shone, just enough to see. His eyes were wide as he walked slowly, sure he'd get back to Camelot by dawn at least. A few stars were winking at him when he glanced up and he wondered what they'd do if he winked back.

What had he been thinking? What the hell was he doing with a boy he barely knew anymore, spending time with druids no less. Uther had no good words about the people and while Arthur had learned much about them even in his limited interaction of the past day, he still knew very little about them. They could have killed him where he slept just for being the prince.

But they hadn't. And Merlin hadn't threatened him at all. Merlin had even kissed him _back_. The ghost of his hands was still fresh on Arthur's shoulders and he wanted to shake them off if only to get away from the memory of his lips. He didn't like feeling how he did, unsure of what he was doing, what he was thinking. It was strange and he felt out of place in his own body.

Arthur was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly missed seeing the fire up ahead. It was just a little campfire, and with the sight of it came distant voices. He sped up his pace a little, nearly tripping over a fallen branch in his haste. It might be his father or others from Camelot. He might be saved.

He was nearly upon them when he realized that these were not men from Camelot. There were at least a dozen, with several horses tied up on the far side of the group. Loud and laughing as they ate, Arthur recognized the group as the bandits that had chased him just two days before. He stopped moving towards them and ducked behind a tree, breath held like they could hear him.

Poking his head around the edge, he realized none of them had any idea he was there. They were all too loud to hear the approach of even his ungraceful footsteps. Arthur sighed in relief. After a moment, he moved out from the tree, slowly stepping backwards and to his right, hoping to bypass the group before they noticed him. He was getting there, slowly but surely, eyes on the men in case one of them heard him and he had to run. Farther and farther he got until he suddenly bumped into something large. Jumping back a step, Arthur tossed his hands in front of him defensively. A burly bandit was in front of him, arms crossed with a scary grin on his scarred face. His teeth glinted with moonlight.

“Uh, hello my good sir. Just passing through, no trouble,” Arthur said placatingly, trying to edge away as he spoke. The large man reached out and grabbed the back of Arthur's neck. “Shit,” the prince huffed as he was pushed back towards the fire. Unarmed, he stood no chance against these men. Even if he'd had a sword, his chances were low.

“Look what I found tromping 'round 'ere!” the man holding Arthur called out to the group as they stepped into the edges of the firelight. “Looks like 'e's been hiding out from us.”

A few of the men snickered and one stood, clad in black leather and obviously the leader. The way he looked at Arthur made the prince feel very small and it had nothing to do with the bandit's sheer size, at least a head taller and twice as wide as he. “Look indeed,” he muttered with a sinister chuckle. “What you doin' out this way little prince?”

“Oh, you know, just out for a stroll,” Arthur told him cheekily, shaking off the other bandit's hand from his neck. He glared over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the leader. “Not trying to make trouble.”

“'ear that boys? He's not lookin' to make trouble. Trouble found you, boy,” he said as the group laughed.

Arthur counted them from the corner of his eye and got eleven. Four horses to his left. If he could duck around the leader and the two behind him, who were still sitting down, he might be able to at least make it to a horse before they caught him. He'd have to untie it still. “If by trouble you're referring to yourself, you're doing a poor job of it,” Arthur goaded, smiling pleasantly.

“Lit'le shit thinks 'e's funny, huh?” another bandit spoke up, getting to his feet with a groan and brushing off his pants before cracking his knuckles together.

“What's your name, my good man?” Arthur asked the leader, not even glancing at the others who were slowly getting up as well.

“Rodrick,” the leader told him, looking a little confused. Big man, little mind.

Arthur smiled at him. “Rodrick, wonderful name. Had a dog once I named Rodrick. What are you planning on doing with me, Rodrick? You know who I am, chased me down the other day, I assume for something. But whatever you're thinking, if you kill me, you'll have the King of Camelot to answer to for that crime. And my sister, too. She's pretty nasty with a sword,” he added the last note more quietly, leaning in a bit closer. “Honestly, if anyone's paying you to kill me, whatever pain you'll suffer for it will far outweigh any gold you might gain.”

Rodrick was starting to look a little worried, but he scowled and leaned in with a meaty finger pointing to Arthur's chin. “There's good coin out on the market for your 'ead,” he said menacingly. A few of the men hooted at the claim. “'ow's your king gonna know we even did it? You ain't gonna tell 'im.”

Arthur shrugged and pulled a face to match, saying loudly, “You don't think my kingdom is so blind as to not make the connection?” He waved a hand between the two of them. “I've heard of you before,” he bluffed, “and I'm not the only one.”

“You 'eard of me?” Rodrick asked, looking both surprised and proud.

“Of course!” Arthur faked a very serious face. “Rodrick, lord of the nastiest bandits in the whole of the land. I've heard mothers around the town telling their little children to wash their hands lest the terrifying Rodrick come and cut them off!”

“Ah! Think of it, boys!” Rodrick rocked back on his feet with a laugh, holding his belly. The group joined in and Arthur glanced around for just a second, planning his next move and how long it would take him to get a horse.

Before he could even take a step in the right direction, the fire in the middle of the group suddenly flared to life and the flames rose high enough to make several of the men jump back with shouts. All eyes were on the fire save for Arthur's which were scanning the forest for the source of what had to be magic.

The leader was blown back off his feet by some invisible hand as soon as Merlin appeared from between the trees. The group was suddenly in chaos. The closest to the boy lunged for him, pulling a sword from his belt. Merlin just raised a hand and the man tripped on his own feet, falling face-first into the dirt and dropping his sword.

Arthur wasted no time. “Merlin, the sword!” he called, reaching out his hands. Merlin grabbed it up from the ground and tossed it just in time for Arthur to catch and twist around to block a swing from the one who'd first grabbed him. They traded a few blows as several others fell around them by Merlin's hands.

Finally, Arthur caught the fellow in the ribs and sent him sprawling. He turned about to meet the next sword, but everyone was already on the ground. He looked to his savior and Merlin's eyes were burning with gold that faded as he lowered his hands. Arthur gripped the sword a little tighter but Merlin looked to him with some exasperation.

“Come on, before they recover!” Merlin said to him, brushing past towards the horses. He'd untied two by the time Arthur had collected himself enough to wander over and take the reins of one as if in a haze.

They rode away quickly, only slowing down when it was starting to get too dark to see. Arthur knew that dawn would come soon, but they were still far from Camelot. Merlin dismounted at the edge of a stream, patting his horse's neck as it bent down to drink. Following his lead, Arthur got to his own feet, sliding the sword into his belt and loosely wrapping his horse's reins around a low branch of a nearby tree.

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked him, stepping nearer. Arthur could barely make out his face in the darkness.

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, coming back to himself. “That was... Did you follow me all that way?”

Merlin snorted a laugh. “You're welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Arthur told him distractedly. He was looking away, at the faint starlight reflecting on the little ripples of the stream.

With a sigh, Merlin spoke from just a step away now. “I wanted to make sure you got back safe since you had the brilliant idea to travel at the absolute worst time. Good thing I did, too, otherwise you'd probably have lost your head.”

Arthur turned a glare in his direction. “I was fine on my own. I had a plan.”

“What plan was that? Sweet talk your way out of death?”

“I was handling it.”

“Oh, sure, if that's what you want to call it.” Merlin's arms were crossed and he was sounding more frustrated the more he talked.

“And what would you call it?” Arthur retorted.

“Caught in the hands of a dozen bandits without a weapon or a way out?”

“I would have been fine.”

“Are you even glad at all that I showed up to save your hide?” Now Merlin was truly upset, and Arthur turned towards him fully.

“You didn't have to! You could've stayed with your bloody druids and left me well and good. I'm not helpless.”

“The druids are good people!” Merlin nearly shouted, getting closer into Arthur's space.

“I never said they weren't! You were right about one thing, you're just like them. So go back and live your life out on the run. Don't bother with me!” Arthur waved a hand in Merlin's face and turned his back.

“What do you mean I'm just like them?” the boy asked, annoyed.

When Arthur turned back he was met with fiery eyes. “You're magic and magic doesn't belong in Camelot. It belongs out there!” He pointed into the woods behind Merlin and continued, “Camelot is too ugly a place for your kind, it's better you stay far away.”

Merlin took a step back, his mouth dropping open. His hands were limp at his sides and Arthur crossed his arms, shoulders dropping as he waited. He didn't have to wait long, but Merlin's words were a whisper as he asked, “Too ugly?”

Heaving a great sigh, Arthur turned away to look at his horse, now resting with a low hanging head. “It's awful there. If I didn't care for my father so much I'd probably wish him dead only so I'd be king and I could start changing things. Morgana and I take every chance we can to escape, even if just for a few hours. She's spoken before of leaving for the druids, too, hoping they might take her in.”

“Uther would never allow that,” Merlin mumbled, moving so that he was standing at Arthur's side.

“That's the problem. I fear being king, but I fear more for my people and their future. Things aren't great, Merlin.” He shifted in place and met his friend's eyes. Merlin was dull in the grey of the forest as the sun promised to appear soon.

“I could help you change things.” The words were just breath from Merlin's tongue but Arthur still heard them.

“Would you?” he asked just as quietly.

One of the horses shook its mane and somewhere above them a bird began its shrill morning song. All Arthur could hear was his heartbeat in his throat and the click of his dry tongue as he swallowed words he might have said if only he were a little stronger.

Merlin curled long fingers into Arthur's shoulders and his mouth tasted like things unspoken and magic. Arthur pulled him close with hands around his waist. The sky was orange on the horizon but all Arthur could see was blue. They stood in a lover's embrace for more minutes than Arthur could count but he had no quarrel with time.

“It would be good to see Gaius again,” Merlin eventually said, his head resting on Arthur's shoulder.

The prince's fingers mapped the bumps of Merlin's spine through his clothing. “He's just the same as when you left. Not much has changed.”

“You have,” Merlin told him, pulling back to smile at him.

Arthur curled one side of his mouth. “No thanks to you.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Merlin's lips. “Come, let's go.”

 

-

 

Gaius cried when he hugged Merlin then held his shoulders as he looked him over. Gwen blushed when Merlin kissed her hand, and Morgana kissed his cheek and Arthur's as well. Uther took the news of Merlin's return with a grain of salt and only relented when Arthur insisted the boy would be staying with him. Merlin magicked a sparrow to take a message to Kassair the first night he was back, sitting at Arthur's desk and looking out the window.

Arthur kissed the top of his head and pulled him to bed by the hand, grinning when Merlin fell on top of him. And if Merlin's eyes glowed gold to extinguish the candles around the room before he leaned in to kiss the prince, well, no one had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug noises*


End file.
